


three's a crowd, but who said crowds can't be fun?

by stxrks



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Aliens, F/F, F/M, Getting Together, Multi, OT3, i just really fancy all three of them tbh and theres a LOT of sexual tension going on there, this is self indulgent as hell guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxrks/pseuds/stxrks
Summary: The Master kidnaps Yaz in a ploy to get the Doctor's attention, but it snowballs into something more.A lot more.
Relationships: Ryan Sinclair/Original Female Character(s), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Yasmin Khan/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 195





	three's a crowd, but who said crowds can't be fun?

Yaz towels off after her late night shower with more force than necessary. Her brain’s a whirl of emotions, and it’s hard not to channel them into her physical actions.

She’s confused. Of course she’s confused. She liked O. Really liked him. And she couldn’t help but think that was mutual, the way he looked at her in the Casino, the way his arms wrapped around her on the motorbike. It was all a lie. He had tried to kill her and her friends for God’s sake. He wasn’t who he said he was at all, he wasn’t even human.

She scowls as she gets dressed. She needs a walk.

She finds herself ending up in the main control room. It’s not empty.

“Hi,” Yaz says.

The Doctor smiles in reply. “Couldn’t sleep?” She looks lovely, she always does, especially here in her natural habitat as she fiddles around with repairs on the TARDIS.

Yaz shrugs. “I have a lot on my mind.”

The Doctor looks at her in silence for a few seconds. “Anything I can do to help?“

Yaz frowns. What can anyone do to help? “I’d like to ask some questions,” she decides.

The Doctor nods encouragingly.

“Who is he to you?” She feels herself blushing as she speaks. “The Master?”

“I told you,” the Doctor says quickly. “A friend.” Too quickly.

“No,” Yaz says quietly. “Ryan and I are friends. You and Graham are friends. You and him? You two - That’s not - it’s not friends.”

The Doctor sighs. “I love him,” she says simply. “He’s hurt me so many times over. What you just saw was only a taster of his old ways. I thought she had changed but … “

“Sorry,” Yaz says. “He used to be a she?”

“Mmm. Or at least he was the last time I saw him. Maybe he hasn’t been her yet for him. Sorry. Time travel.”

“Okay,” Yaz says. If she starts thinking about this too much, her head will hurt. She wonders if her next question is too personal, then decides to go for it anyway. “Does he love you back?”

The Doctor smiles sadly. “Of course he does. Sometimes I feel like it’s all he’s ever done. All of this, all this violence and anger and destruction. It’s just a way to get my attention.”

“I don’t blame him,” Yaz mutters, then blushes. Her lack of sleep is catching up to her, and she’s voicing her own thoughts like an idiot.

The Doctor laughs, leaning forward, and gently cups Yaz’s face in her hands.

For a second Yaz forgers how to breathe, all thoughts of the Master having vacated her head altogether as she looks directly at the Doctor.

Just when she thinks it’s about to happen, the Doctor lightly kisses her on the head.

“Go to sleep Yaz.”

—-

The two of them don’t talk about the kiss that never was, and the four of them don’t talk about the Master for the next few weeks. Graham and Ryan seem happy to forget about him, and the Doctor doesn’t bring him up either. She’s back to her old self, cheerful and bouncy, solving mysteries and beating bad guys with a smile on her face. Yaz thinks she catches the smile fade every so often when the Doctor thinks nobody is watching her, but even then only for a few seconds at a time.

They get up to so much all at once that Yaz finds herself forgetting about her mixed up feelings for the Doctor and the Master, and whatever strange relationship exists between the two of them. There are aliens to encounter, old civilisations to discover and a whole universe of adventure in between. She rides a dinosaur with Ryan screaming hoarsely behind her, narrowly avoids having her head chopped off in revolutionary France, and accidentally adopts three dozen Martians between herself and Graham.

It’s only when she’s alone in her bed at night that those messy thoughts come back to her, no matter how hard she tries to push them away.

—-

They’re on some strange alien planet called Naic, home to the Gorma, a people where everyone has four arms and skins in varying shades of blue, and a princess with bright a turquoise hue has decided to whisk Ryan off in all four of her arms and announce their marriage to her citizens.

“Well,” Doctor says. “I suppose we should probably rescue him from this.”

Graham grins. “He didn’t look too put out by it. I’d say he won’t be too happy with us if we interrupt so soon.”

“Probably not,” the Doctor agrees. “But Princess Préachta is engaged to Prince Uaine of the Glasa people, as an attempt to bring an end to the Civil War between the two races. The Prince is currently en route for the wedding and if we ruin this marriage, the Glasa will consider it a slight against their people and will probably continue the war for another three hundred years.”

Graham snorts. “Ryan sure knows how to pick them.”

Yaz half listens to their conversation with a grin. She can’t stop admiring this gorgeous planet with its white hot sun in a dusky pink sky and endless swooping hills, surrounding perfectly circular lakes and bustling towns. She’s not looking where she’s going, only vaguely aware of the direction the Doctor and Graham are heading in, and ends up stumbling over someone’s feet, only to be caught up in their arms.

“Sorry,” she begins to apologise. “I wasn’t looking where I - “

She catches herself. The arms of her saviour aren’t blue. They’re a horribly familiar brown.

“Hello Yasmin,” the Master mutters against her neck, and by the time she’s composed herself to yell for the Doctor, she feels something sharp jab into her neck. The world slows down around her, and then falls dark.

—-

When she comes to, she finds herself tied to a chair in a strangely room. The carpet is soft, the windows are wide and overlooking a pristine blue lake. The bed is large and comfortable looking. Even the chair Yaz is currently tied to is soft and plush. It would be an idealistic setting if it wasn’t for her captor sitting across from her, lying back against the headboard of the bed.

He grins. “Hello.”

She scowls at him. “Let me go,” she demands.

He rolls his eyes. “Do you think anyone ever gets let go by just demanding it? Come on Yaz.” He sees her struggling against the ropes and tuts. “I wouldn’t waste my energy if I was you. Judoon made rope that. Doesn’t break.”

She scowls again, but relents struggling against her bindings. “What do you want from me?” she demands. “And how did you get here?”

“I don’t have to answer your questions,” he drawls. “But since we’re still waiting on your rescuer to find her way here, I might as well. I got myself out of that stupid dimension through a combination of my own smarts and the general stupidity of the creatures surrounding me. I don’t want anything from you. You’re just bait. Obviously.”

That hurts more than it should considering he’s some maniacal alien who’s just kidnapped her, but Yaz bites down her feelings and forces herself to retort. “So that’s what this is? This another cry for attention from the Doctor?”

For a split second, she sees fire in his eyes and she kicks herself for provoking the man who could probably kill her in too many ways to count, when the door to their fancy room is burst open.

“Doctor!” Yaz exclaims. She’s never been gladder to see the woman, even in the strange state she’s in. She’s got strange pink flowers around her neck and her hair covered in a weird sort of glitter that seems to change colour between shimmers, but she’s here, and what’s that matters.

“Doctor,” the Master exclaims with equal gusto, albeit that of a more sinister nature. He bounces off the bed, over to her, until the pair are so close, they could kiss. “You got my message?”

“Let Yaz go,” the Doctor says quietly. “You told me to come alone, I did. This is between me and you. Leave her out of it.”

Yaz wonders where Ryan and Graham are, but figures it’s not the right moment to ask, not when the Master is grinning in such a chilling way.

“I’ve got a bomb,” the Master says. “Strapped to the head carriage of Prince Uaine’s fleet. It’s made with state of the art Gorma technology. When it blows up tonight, the Glasa people will blame the Gorma immediately and will attack - “

“You fool,” the Doctor breathes. “Millions have already died over this stupid war. Nobody today was even alive when it broke out. This treaty was in the work for years, and you’re going to throw it all away?”

“You’d know all about throwing things away,” he says. “You left me in that hell world for years, Doctor. How long’s it been for you? A couple of weeks.”

“You tried to kill my friends,” the Doctor snarls. “You tried to destroy humanity. You tried - “

Oh, stop it!” Yaz cries. Maybe it’s the white hot heat of the Naic sun, or the after affects of being drugged, but she can’t take it.

Both the Timelords stare at her, both uncharacteristically speechless.

“This is ridiculous,” she presses on. “This feud that exists between the two of you. How many people and planets are at risk when they get caught up in your stupid ploys to impress one another? All because you’re both too afraid to admit to one another that you love each other!”

There, she’s said it. There’s no going back from that truth bomb. Neither of them says a word, just continue to stare at her in silence. She closes her eyes and prays to whatever deity is listening that she’ll be rescued from this scenario, that she won’t have to suffer this terrible silence a moment longer and -

The Master is kissing the Doctor. Yasmin chokes on her own surprise, and is suddenly thankful for the chair she’s tied to, because she doesn’t think she’d be able to stand right now. Her legs have turned to jelly, and she’s trying to remember how to breathe.

Watching the way he kisses her makes her stomach flutter in unquestionable ways. It’s frantic and hot and there’s no room for any hesitation or slowness, as the two of them go at it. He has her shoved up against the wall, hands all over her and then Yaz feels her throat go dry as he lifts her with ease, her legs wrapping around his body, as he planets kisses down across her neck, her head thrown back.

When they finally break apart, Yaz manages to say something along the lines of “Uhh.” She shakes her head and forces herself to articulate. Watching them kiss is one thing, but she doesn’t know if she’s comfortable being a complete voyeur to what’s unfolding next. “Can one of you free me?” she says weakly. “I think I should leave.”

The Master scowls at her. “Don’t be stupid,” he snaps, and approaches her, and for a wild moment she’s not sure what he’s going to do, until he kneels down between her legs, and she feels the slacks of the ropes loosen.

“Thanks,” she says weakly. “I should go and - “

He’s kissing her.

Yaz feels faint. She didn’t know kissing could feel like this, didn’t know it could have her so heated and flustered, so desperate. She uses the now regained freedom of her hands to grab his body, his shoulders and arms, and oh -

He’s lifting her over to the bed as if she weighs next to nothing, lets her fall on her back, next to a familiar figure.

“Hi,” Yaz says to the Doctor.

“Hi,” the Doctor replies with a smile, and then they’re kissing and Yaz thinks she might die here and now. It’s the kiss that never happened that night on the TARDIS except so much better. It’s the kind of kiss that should have happened a million times over, except it’s happening now and it’s perfect. It’s soft and gentle, but overwhelmingly powerful at the same time. It’s insane.

It’s hard to imagine being conscious of anything when the Doctor is kissing her like that, and then she feels warmth against her neck, feels a possessive arm wrap around her waist. “I think you’re wearing far too many clothes,” the Master mutters against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

She shrugs off the top she had been wearing and immediately admonishes herself for not wearing a sexier bra, but the Doctor’s looking her at five pound Primark find as if it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever seen.

“Yaz,” she mutters. “Oh Yaz.” And then she’s kissing Yaz’s breasts while her fingers deftly unhook the bra clutch. Yaz feels the cool air only momentarily before she feels the warmth of the Doctor’s mouth on her breast, one at a time while she plays with the other in her hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” the Doctor says, almost reverently, as she licks across Yaz’s nipple in a way that almost makes her scream.

She feels pressure below, looks down and sees the Master with his hands on the zip of her jeans. He gives her that familiar grin. He’s not the type of guy who’s going to waste time asking for permission, not when he already knows the answer. She raises herself slightly, gives him better access to remove her trousers. Her underwear is one of those Primark thongs that seemed like a great buy in the moment, but now she’s questioning it, and she’s trying to remember the last time she shaved and - “

He smirks. “You’re soaking.”

She scowls. She’s not going to become the simpering fool he wants her to be, even now when every part of her body is crying for his touch. “Well, do something about it.”

The Doctor laughs against her collarbone. “That’s my Yaz.”

Yaz feels her heart flutter. Her Yaz.

The Master smiles devilishly. He doesn’t waste time teasing her, doesn’t spend ages nipping and flicking against her thighs and around her core. He dives straight in.

Yaz sees stars.

She’s never had this kind of sex before, never been so completely and thoroughly licked and sucked upon, and positively worshipped. He’s feasting like this is his last meal, his tongue all over her pussy, and then upon her clit and -

Yaz doesn’t think anyone’s ever made her come so fast.

When she’s come to her senses again, she realises the Master is on his back beside her, the Doctor on top of him as they kiss. It’s like a slightly muted version of their previous kiss, just as passionate and unrelenting, but less urgent. As if they’ve just remembered they have all the time in the world.

She could watch them all day, how perfectly they meld together, their two bodies, so different and so wonderful against the other. But with a start, she realises something unfair.

“I’m stark naked here,” she tells them, in an attempt to be stern. “And you two haven’t removed as much as a sock.”

The Doctor breaks away from him to laugh sitting up straight so she’s straddling him, and guides Yaz’s hands to her clothed hips. “Help me?” And Yaz swallows and complies, because who is she to refuse a request like that?

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers to the Doctor. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while,” she admits.

“I’ve loved you,” the Doctor says gently. “Since the day we met on that train.

Yaz thinks she might cry. She feels like a right idiot. She’s just had the best orgasm of her life, and she’s on the verge of tears.

Below them, the Master snorts. “Whenever you’re done,” and just like that the teariness passes and Yaz grabs onto him. “You too. Get those stupid clothes off.”

“Don’t have to ask me again,” he mutters and is throwing off his shirt in earnest, pulling down his trousers rapidly. He’s fully hard, Yaz sees, probably has been for a while. And just because she can, she decides to lean over and kiss him. She thinks she’s taken him by surprise, because it takes him a second to fully kiss back, but when he does, he really and truly does. It’s all sharp teeth against her lips, the kind of bites and slightly pressure that make her moan.

It’s only when she feels him groan against her mouth that she realises the Doctor has settled herself upon the Master’s cock, and is riding slowly and steadily, her own eyes shut in pleasure.

Yaz wonders if she should take a step back, let them have this moment that’s long overdue, then the Master grabs her wrist and demands more than asks, “sit on my face.”

Yaz feels her throat dry in the prospect of another one of those. “Yeah?”

“Unless you can’t handle it.” His cockiness is somewhat ruined by his breathy tone as he tries to speak normally with the Doctor riding him like that.

Yaz doesn’t need telling twice. She positions herself so she’s on top of him, facing the Doctor who smiles at her appreciatively then grabs her hand. She wants to say something heartfelt to her, then the Master licks her and all she can do is whimper in delight as he fucks her thoroughly with his tongue.

She comes even sooner this time.

—-

They’ve been lying in the delightfully comfortable bed for a while now, lazy kisses and muttering. Yaz is sleepy and content to rest her eyes as she listens to the two Timelords above her converse.

“The bomb?”

“I made it up. Not that it would be a bad idea, but it was so clearly a lie Doctor, come on now. What happened to the other two idiots?”

Even in her state of tiredness, Yaz realises she’s indirectly being called an idiot too, and shoves her elbow against his chest, but there’s no real malice in it.

“Still at the palace. The Princess decided she would stay galactic pen pals with Ryan for now, and after she’s married, she’s going to breech the subject of an open relationship to her husband. Nice girl, even if she did ambush me with celebratory flowers and glitter before I got here.”

“Aren’t open relationships the norm here?” the Master points out lazily. He’s threading his fingers through Yaz’s hair and it feels so good that it’s taking everything in her power not to purr.

“Mmhmm. But involving a human? That’s going to be interesting.”

“That’s the word for it,” the Master says, as Yaz feels herself drifting off. “Complete idiots, all of them. But they keep things interesting.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was so much FUN to write and if there's an interest in more of this ship, i've definitely got a few more ideas bouncing around in my head. comments are always lovely xx 
> 
> if you want a good laugh, here's a joke: this originally wasn't intended as smut at all but i have zero self control.  
> also did i steal all the alien words in this piece from various words for green and blue in my country's native language? perhaps. 
> 
> anyway shoutout to season 12 for bringing back the master and thereby reigniting my love of new who ps sacha dhawan i have feelings for you


End file.
